Pete spent that evening with Ades, and Reuben\'s fireside slumbers were unrestful because he missed Pete\'s accustomed snore from the other end of the settle. The next morning his son did not appear, though there was plenty of work to be done in the hop-fields.[Pg 378] The young hops were now well above ground, and exposed to the perils of blight, so Reuben and Beatup were spraying them with insect-killer, badly in need of a third man to do the mixing.

"Where\'s Pete?" asked Reuben.

"I dunno—?un\'t seen un this mornun. Ah—thur he be!"

"Where?"

"C?aming up by the brook, surelye."

Reuben stared in amazement. The approaching figure undoubtedly was Pete, but a Pete so changed by circumstances and demeanour as to be almost unrecognisable. He wore his Sunday black clothes, which—as, with the exception of the funeral, he had not put them on for ten years—were something of a misfit. On his head was a black hat with a wide flapping brim, he walked with a measured step and his hands folded in front of him.

"Well," cried Reuben, calling abuse to the rescue of surprise—"you hemmed lazy good-fur-nothing, you!—wud all the Glotten hay to be cut, and ten acres o\' hops to be sprayed, and you go laying in bed lik a lady, and then come out all dressed as if you wur going to church. Where\'s your corduroys?"

"In my box—you can cl?athe the naked wud \'em—I\'m never going to put \'em on no more."

"I\'m hemmed if I\'ll have you working on my farm in that foolery. You\'ll m?ake us the laughing-stock of Peasmarsh. You\'ve got Ebenezer on the brain, you have, and you can justabout git it off again."

"I\'m never going to do another str?ake of wark on your farm as long as I live. Salvation\'s got me."

Reuben dropped the insect-killer.

"I\'m the Lord\'s lost lamb," announced Pete.

"The Lord\'s lost——!" cried his father angrily. "You t?ake off them blacks, and git to work lik a human being."
 
"I tell you I\'m never going to work fur you ag?un. I\'m going forth to spread the Word. Salvation\'s got me."

"You wait till I git you, that\'s all," and Reuben ran at Pete.

"Kip off, or I\'ll slosh you one on the boko," cried the Lord\'s lost lamb swinging up a vigorous pair of fists. Reuben breathed a sigh of relief.

"There—I knew as there wur reason in you, Pete. You w?an\'t go and leave your f?ather lik the rest, all fur a hemmed Methody."

"Hemmed Methody! That\'s how you spik of the man wot\'s s?aved my soul. I tell you as there I wur lost in trespasses and sins, and now I\'m washed white as wool—there wur my evil doings sticking to my soul lik maggots to a dead rat, and now my soul\'s washed in the Blood of the Lamb, and I\'m going out to sprea............